


pedigree

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding Kink, Furry, Horse cock, Kirin Hanzo, M/M, Stableboy Genji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-12-26 21:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: Kirin are magnificent, intelligent creatures with enough power to kill a man with ease--and Hanzo is no exception. If anything, he set the standard.Today is Genji's first day taking care of him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> art by [RavenousCannibal](ravenouscannibal.tumblr.com)

The town of Hanamura prides itself on two things: the cherry blossoms that bloom in the spring and saturate the air with sweet-scent and showers of velvet petals, and the royal stables of the emperor.

Where the other stables of Japan house prize-winning racehorses or oxen trained to plow fields, the best stables in Hanamura boast a commodity much rarer--kirin, magnificent dragon-horse hybrids blessed by the gods with the strength of ten mules and the intelligence to match, dappled in scales that glitter under the sun like polished coin and luxurious manes of fine hair. Their large, antler-like horns only add to their imposing height and stature, and one kick from their hooves is enough to turn a man’s skull inside out with ease. 

And today is Genji’s first day taking care of them.

He’s been assigned to the stables since he lost his parents at the tender age of fifteen--without their income he was forced to find a job to put food in his belly, and the stables were always looking for new hands to muck stalls, haul in feed, and clean tack. In his four years working there Genji has always admired from afar the majestic kirin that roamed the fields under the sweltering sun, but after a veteran hand resigned--was chased off by an ill-tempered stallion, the rumours say--he finally has a chance to seize the position he’s always wanted.

Genji tries to not let his hopes get too high; after all, he’s only worked at the stables for a few years, and there’s some men here who have decades of experience on him. He can’t imagine that they’ll all be overlooked in favour of the scrappy orphan from the nearby village to take care of the emperor’s prized kirin.

And yet…

“Shimada!”

Genji looks up from the old riding saddle he’s polishing at the shout, shaking his bangs out of his eyes to find himself staring at two of the stable managers--low high-born men, appointed by the emperor’s hand to oversee the care of his facilities. Genji can’t help but jerk upright when he sees them, immediately on edge; the only time he’s ever seen the stable managers approach a hand was to bring news of termination or punishment. He frantically thinks back, trying to recall if he’s done anything offensive enough to call for the managers themselves--all he can think of is the times he’s gone home with a few older, bruised apples stuffed in his knapsack, and surely that’s not enough to warrant his superiors’ time.

Right?

It’s all Genji can hope for, as he sets his polishing rag aside and approaches the two men, offering them a quick bow and hoping his anxiety doesn’t show on his face.

“...something I can help you with, sirs?”

“Yes,” the first says, and they both turn away as if on cue, half-capes billowing around their shoulders. “Come with us.”

Muted, Genji follows--and finds himself walking into the stables themselves, past the rows of spacious stalls where kirins of every color lie in soft piles of straw, already bedded down for the night. They lift their regal heads to watch Genji pass by, following his motion with bright eyes like they know he’s not supposed to be here; and Genji can’t help but stare back, captivated.

Working as a hand, his jobs consisted of cleaning empty stalls and polishing tack, preparing the kirins’ food. He’s never seen them so close before.

He’s so enraptured by the magnificent beasts, curled up in their stalls like polished gems, that he doesn’t realize his managers have stopped until he’s almost run headlong into them. Genji looks up sharply, and the breath stills in his lungs when he realizes they’ve stopped outside the one stall that only the veteran hands are allowed to even clean, the stall that’s a good three times the size of the others.

The only stall with a cushioned floor covered in superfine shaved flax bedding, and the only stall with padded walls.

The managers step aside, and Genji comes face to face with a kirin--the most talked-about kirin in the land, the kirin responsible for more injuries than the rest of the stable combined, the kirin that’s never been ridden or bridled but has bred every mare in the stables.

Hanzo, the emperor’s most prized stallion.

The kirin stands in his stall with his head raised and ears pinned back, and even without taking the length of his massive horns into consideration he’s still at least two feet taller than Genji--his eyes narrow as they settle on the stableboy’s face, and Genji can’t help but be pinned by the intensity in that gaze.

“...I don’t understand,” he says, tearing his eyes off Hanzo to look to the managers again. “Why am I here?”

“We didn’t understand either,” one manager says, looking to his companion with a frown. “But Hanzo got sick of his last handler and chased him off. Now, he needs a new one.”

“But...why me?” Genji asks, baffled. “I’m not--”

“It’s not up to us,” the other manager cuts in--and his tone lets Genji know right away that if it _had_ been up to them, the job would definitely not have gone to some no-name young orphan. 

Genji tries to keep his disbelief in check as he asks, “...then...then who is it up to?”

“Hanzo.” The manager crosses his arms over his chest, clearly displeased to be the one to deliver the news. “He chose you, kid. You start tomorrow morning.”

They both turn to leave, abandoning Genji with the huge, powerful beast not ten inches from his face, and it’s only when they’re back at the door that one manager throws over his shoulder, “For your sake, I hope you’re ready.”


	2. Chapter 2

During his years mucking stalls and mixing mash, Genji told himself he’d give anything to be a handler instead--to be able to touch the kirin, brush their coats and clean their hooves, braid ribbons into their flowing manes.

Right now, he stands outside Hanzo’s stall with the dawn at his back, and tries to gather up his courage enough to seize what he’s dreamed of so often.

Even while asleep, Hanzo paints an imposing picture--a loosely-curled ball of muscle and pearlescent, powder-blue hide, with his long legs folded up beneath him and the fluffy, dark tip of his tail laid over his nose--and Genji almost doesn’t want to wake him. He’s heard tales of the stallion’s ire: how he’s bitten other handlers down to the bone for daring to touch him, the indents his hooves can leave with one well-placed kick. More than once he’s seen terrified handlers chased from the stables with the furious stallion at their backs, for insults ranging from the incredibly slight to the imagined.

And Genji’s going to wake him.

But not yet.

No, he was given a list of daily tasks associated with being Hanzo’s handler, and step one was to never wake him without four apples ready for his pre-breakfast snack, already washed, peeled, and cored--but not sliced. So here Genji sits, with his back to Hanzo’s stall and three properly prepared apples in his lap, humming quietly as he carefully works his knife in around the last apple to cut out the center.

And he jolts, slicing through the apple and nicking a quick swipe across his palm, as he hears a loud thump from the stall behind him.

Genji scrambles up, the apples falling out of his lap to roll across the floor and his cut palm flying to his mouth, and peers over the stall door to find himself staring at an angry kirin--Hanzo’s long, slender ears are pinned back and his eyes narrowed, and his massive hoof is still pressed against the wall of the stall, post-kick. Genji stares at him, his pulse slowing as he suckles the blood from his fresh cut, and throws his good hand into the air.

“What was that for? You made me cut myself!”

He holds out his hand for proof, letting Hanzo see the angry red gash--and the kirin’s eyes roll, a dismissive snort leaving him as he tucks his leg back in and lowers his head again. His eyes close as his ears slowly lower, and a few moments pass before Genji realizes exactly what happened.

The kirin was punishing him for being noisy so early in the morning, when he was still resting.

“Unbelievable,” Genji mutters, bending down to grab the apples and his knife off the floor; the soft white meat is flecked with dirt and debris from the floor, and Genji has a feeling that if the kirin won’t eat his apples with peel then he probably won’t eat them with dirt, either. He casts a quick glare at the stall, then heads off to rinse the fruit at the nearby spigot; and when he comes back, it’s to find Hanzo with his head up and ears perked forward, watching Genji with something he could swear is amusement in his dark eyes.

Spoiled brat.

“Oh, are you awake now?” Genji asks, using his elbow to open the stall door--and as soon as his foot is inside the gate Hanzo jumps up, his ears snapping back and tail lashing as he lunges forward.

“Shit!”

Genji scrambles backward, nearly losing his footing in his haste to get the stall door closed again--not like it would do any more than slightly slow Hanzo down, if he had it in his mind to get Genji under his hooves--and backing away, his eyes wide as he stares at Hanzo, waiting to see the kirin’s next move. Genji is afraid that he’ll charge, leap the gate and pin him against the wall with his antlers, use his sturdy hooves or sharp teeth to eviscerate him on the spot; but what he doesn’t expect is for Hanzo to skid to an immediate stop right in front of the door and shake out his mane with a low, rumbling nickering.

Laughing at Genji--at his fear. 

Genji has always heard the kirin are intelligent, but he never thought them capable of such mean-spirited jokes.

“Heh...heh.” He forces out a weak chuckle of his own, eyeing Hanzo warily as he slowly comes back up to the stall. The kirin’s gaze is still, unnervingly, on him--and although he tosses his head impatiently, his stance goes tense and imposing when Genji’s hand comes to rest on the stall door again. 

“...can I come in?” Genji asks, trying to hide his unease; he’s heard kirin can smell fear, and he can’t imagine one would have a keener nose than Hanzo. He tries to sweeten the deal with a hasty, “I’ve got your apples. Peeled and cored, just how you like.”

At that, Hanzo snorts, like it’s a hassle just to consider it; but his strong muscles relax, his long tail gives a lazy flick, and when his head lowers a little Genji deems it safe to approach. He steps cautiously into Hanzo’s stall and goes immediately for the raised golden platter that the stallion eats off of, gently setting the apples upright on the plate like he would an offering. Hanzo approaches and hovers over them, giving them a few delicate sniffs; and Genji lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the stallion seems to deem them acceptable enough to take a swift bite.

“Are they good?” he asks, cautiously circling around Hanzo and going to the wooden box that hangs off one of the stall’s walls--it holds all of Hanzo’s grooming supplies, and staring down into it Genji realizes that he’s looking at a collection of items that cost at least double his monthly salary.

The first thing he pulls out is a comb carved of bone, with a gleaming sapphire set into its spine; recalling his detailed list of chores, Genji also fishes a small bottle of conditioning oil out of the box and tucks it into his pocket. 

“...I’m going to start combing you,” he announces, approaching Hanzo warily. When the stallion’s gaze darts over to him, Genji mutters a quick, “Gods help me…”

He reaches Hanzo’s side and halts, staring at him as he eats; this close, he can see the glittery sheen of Hanzo’s scales, the gleam of the fine golden hairs peppering his dark black mane. Comb in hand, he reaches out, almost giddy at the thought of touching a real, live kirin for the first time in his life, for finally getting to lay a hand on the most magnificent beast in all the land--

And he jerks back with a yelp, just in time for Hanzo’s teeth to snap together in the air where his hand had been a moment before.

“Fuck!” Genji takes a staggering step back, clutching the comb in a white-knuckled fist, his eyes wide as he stares at Hanzo. “What--how am I supposed to do any of this? _You_ chose _me_ , remember?”

Again the stallion’s eyes roll, and he shifts his position, turning his back on Genji. His lithe tail lashes through the air, the fluffy tip smacking against Genji’s thigh; and all Genji can do is stare dumbly, his mouth hanging ajar.

“...you...want me to start with your tail?” he tries, cautiously catching Hanzo’s tail on its next lash, cupping it gently in his palm to rub his thumb lightly along the scales. “Is that it?”

Hanzo doesn’t answer him, but he also makes no move to attack again--just stands and shifts his weight to rest one of his hind legs, his ears and neck relaxing, and Genji takes that as a yes. 

“....okay,” he starts, letting Hanzo’s tail rest over his wrist as he pulls out the bottle of conditioning oil. “I’m gonna start now...please don’t kick me,” he mutters, almost as an afterthought. 

Hanzo snorts again, his ears flicking; and as he drizzles the rosemary-scented oil across Hanzo’s tail, as he rubs it in with his fingertips, Genji can’t shake the feeling that he’s being laughed at.

He wonders, briefly, if he’d be better off back to polishing tack.


	3. Chapter 3

The grooming session goes as well as Genji dares to hope for--in the sense that by the time the sun has fully risen, he’s got Hanzo groomed and his hooves cleaned out, has his mane and tail both combed and brushed with rosemary oil, has his scales buffed with vanilla-scented beeswax. 

And to put it mildly, he’s exhausted. 

“There,” he sighs, letting the boar-bristle brush fall back into the basket of Hanzo’s grooming supplies before he goes to the gate at the rear of the stall. He unlocks the gate and lets it fall open, sweeping an arm out toward the pasture connected that stretches out for acres beyond. “Now that you’re clean and beautiful, you can go.” He pauses, then adds with a sour mumble, “And get dirty, so that I have to do that all over again.”

Hanzo huffs at that, his head jerking up from where he’d been drinking the charcoal-filtered water from his marble trough; and his golden eyes narrow at Genji, his lithe tail lashing behind him as he stalks toward the rear gate.

“Oh, don’t even start with that,” Genji says, shaking his head in exasperated amusement; hoping that if he can play it off, the kirin won’t sense the nervousness lingering under the tired mirth. “I know you like watching the humans scramble to fulfill all your nit-picking desires, and even if it meant getting yourself dirty you would, just so you can see me running around to please you.” He looks up at Hanzo, his lips quirked in a half-smile. “Isn’t that right?”

Hanzo puffs up like he’s personally offended, drawing himself up to his full height; and when he leaves the stall, it’s with an unapologetic strut to his step, the tuft of his tail flicking Genji harshly in the chest as he walks out into the pasture.

“Stuck-up little shit,” Genji mutters, and turns away with a chuckle.

-x-

But as stuck-up as he is, as much of a pain he can be, Genji has to admit that taking care of Hanzo has changed his life for the better.

He’s no longer some no-name orphan--now that he’s tending to the most prized kirin in the stables, Genji finds himself the center of more attention than he knows what to do with. Suddenly the girls that work there are throwing themselves at him, hanging off his arms and kissing his cheeks and offering to bring him home; and some of the other stablehands are inviting him to sit with them during their lunch breaks, initiating conversation when they see each other in the hallways. 

It’s baffling, and Genji loves it.

But there are still some that have not gone through the same change of heart.

Genji returns to Hanzo’s empty stall after his lunch break, and finds two of the older stablehands--Shenzi and Edd--standing there, arms crossed like they’re waiting for him. They are two of the most veteran hands that the stable has, and Genji isn’t foolish enough to delude himself with the idea that they’re anything less than pissed at being passed over for the noteworthy job of tending to Hanzo; and so it’s with nervousness that he tries to hide that he walks up to them. 

“Hey, guys,” he starts, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. “What’s up?”

“We have some questions for you, Shimada,” Shenzi says, and the timbre of her voice is anything but pleased. 

“Like how some punk like you got the job you have,” Edd adds, taking a step forward to give Genji a shove. “Whose dick did you suck, huh? How many of the higher-ups did you let fuck you, whore?”

The push has Genji stumbling backward, even as he snarls at the accusation; but he’s not given any time to react, to reply, before the two stablehands rush him. Shenzi has her fist in his gut right as Edd sweeps Genji’s legs out from under him, and he goes down hard, crying out in pain as his head bounces off the hard-packed floor.

“Oh no,” Shenzi starts, her voice thick with mock concern. “I think we hurt him!”

“Looks like he’ll be unable to do his job.” Edd lands a hard kick into Genji’s side, making him yelp again. “They’ll have to find someone else. Tragic.”

“Truly,” Shenzi says, on the heels of a dark chuckle. “I hope you didn’t like feeling important, Shimada, because your time at playing above your station is over.” She kicks Genji’s arm flat, and presses the heel of her boot down onto his hand, pinning it palm-down to the floor with her weight.

“It’ll be hard to work with a broken arm, I imagine.” Edd smirks at Shenzi and comes closer, raising his boot over the vulnerable bend of Genji’s arm and lining up his blow. “You’ll have to let me know, while you’re back in the shadows cleaning tack.”

“Wait--” Genji starts, before his voice is cut off by a low, roar-like bellow.

It all happens too fast for Genji to even keep track of--one second he’s staring up at the two hands and trying to plead for his health, and the next there’s a flash of blue, and Edd is gone from his line of sight with a thunderous thud. Genji blinks and catches only a glimpse of a gold-laced black tail before Shenzi, along with the weight on his hand, also disappears. There’s a solid _whump_ from somewhere behind him and Shenzi’s yelp of pain, and Genji struggles to sit up, his head still spinning as he tries to piece together just what the hell is going on.

He startles as there’s a warm weight at his back, something pushing between his shoulders to help him upright. When he’s finally stable enough to be able to, he looks over his shoulder, and finds himself face to face with the last thing he thought he would ever see.

“Hanzo?”


End file.
